“Light shines not in the light, but in the dark. Jace stood against the darkness, and when the darkness fought back, he stood firm. Jace never asked anything of us, but when we asked everything of him, he answered. Jace was a man of honor and courage, a man who gave everything to defend that which we hold dear.”

The lamps of the Northern Lights Lounge had been dimmed, and the usually busy social space was silent as Chief Petty Officer Ayala Shafir spoke. Those who gathered in the memory of Lieutenant J.G. Jace Morgan bowed their heads in mourning, the deep hues of a star nursery trickling through the panoramic windows providing the only luminance in the otherwise dark room. Admiral Reyes had, in Lieutenant Morgan’s honor, momentarily stopped the squadron’s rimward charge so they could pay their respects, and Fleet Captain Devreux had identified a nebula that itself was the cradle of new stars to serve as the Lieutenant’s final resting place.

“On Nasera, Jace fought for the freedom of those who suffered unspeakably at the hands of the Jem’Hadar. When at last the battle was won, Jace did not rest. He knew the war waged on, and with the Polaris non-com, he joined us aboard the Serenity to take the fight to the Lost Fleet.”

Chief Shafir looked over to where Lieutenant Commander Eidran and the contingent from the Serenity stood. They’d been skeptical of Morgan, Reyes and the others when they’d first stormed aboard the Serenity, but through the crucible, they’d come to know, and to deeply respect, the Polaris operators. While they didn’t know Jace Morgan as well as those on the Polaris, this was also, for them, and for so many others in the room,  a personal reminder of the many losses they’d suffered in the recent months.

“Past Leonis and Arriana and deep into the Lost Fleet’s territory, Jace never rested as we raced the night through Minara and engaged the enemy in Ciatar.”

Chief Shafir could still remember the spacewalk near Minara, when Lieutenant Morgan backflipped out of the shuttle on their way over to hack the Jem’Hadar relay station. He still had a pep in his step then. And even in the Ciatar Nebula, staring down a Jem’Hadar battleship, he was still in his element. As they screened for the Mariner, taking the hits for Captain Kobahl’s little ship, if Lieutenant Morgan hadn’t juggled the PDUs the way he did, they wouldn’t have made it.

“And then… and then when at last the Lost Fleet withdrew, he came with us to Earth, and he fought, face to face, those who conspired to bring about our end.”

Chief Shafir looked down at the stub where once her index finger had been. She could still see the hulk from Milan as he squeezed the pliers around her metacarpal bones. She could still remember the pain as he viciously ripped and tore at it until it fell to the floor. But losing her finger, that had been nothing, nothing compared to the pain that Lieutenant Morgan had endured, through fire ants and molten ore, as their captors tore him down.

“And even then, in our most helpless – most hopeless – moment, Jace never gave up. He knew the stakes, and he never hesitated. When the Borg signal overtook the fleet, he did what needed to be done. He risked it all, for us, and for all of humanity.”

Lieutenant Morgan had beaten Ensign Bragg to the draw when the young security officer fell to his genetic coding. If it hadn’t been for Jace, Bragg might have gunned her down. And then, as the gravity of the situation became apparent – seventy percent of the crew assimilated, the ship completely locked down, and the entire fleet under the control of Fleet Formation – it was Jace that had reminded her there was always a way. He was the one ready to push the button to rip a hole in the ships of the line in the hopes that it might slow their advance on Earth. He would have too, if Picard hadn’t pulled off that last moment miracle.

“Sadly, as we now know all too well, the battle does not end when the shooting stops, and tonight, tonight we say goodbye, goodbye to a man taken from us far too soon.”

A tear ran down the Chief’s face as she yielded the floor to Admiral Reyes. 

Somberly, Admiral Reyes stepped into the center of the room and looked out the window. She took a deep breath, and then said the words that she’d said far too many times, over far too many years, for far too many young sailors and soldiers, those who’d given their lives in service to the Federation.

“In the name of the universe itself, we now commit this body to the deep. May we remember, for today and every day we continue to live, the courage and dedication that Lieutenant Morgan showed in the face of those who sought to end all that we hold so dear.”

Across the bow of the ship, a single torpedo lanced out across the night, one carrying not a warhead but one of their own. Admiral Reyes raised her hand in a salute as she watched it go.

“Rest well, Lieutenant. You are now at peace. May your journey through the stars be serene, and may you find the serenity you so dearly deserve.”

Slowly, the torpedo faded into the distance, racing the night one last time.

“From the stars we came, and to the stars we shall return.”

And then there was only silence in the starlight.